Thyber Lucky
by Klainey
Summary: "Maybe if I play some Maroon Five, I'll get cyber-lucky!" Kurt decides to try his luck, but it turns out that skype sex with a new tongue piercing is not as titillating as it sounds. Reaction fic for 5x05


The moment Blaine's face pops up on the screen, he knows this is going to be a good night. Blaine's hair is free of gel, falling over his forehead in those fluffy curls he loves to run his fingers through. He's wearing Kurt's favorite v-neck—the low cut one that shows off just enough collar bone— and his loosest fitting pair of sweatpants. It's the outfit he'd had put on after they'd first had sex as an engaged couple. Ever since then, Kurt's lower regions have an almost pavlovian reaction to seeing Blaine like that. The low throb in his tongue and the ache on his shoulder help with that too. Kurt's always been a bit of a masochist, he's not going to deny it.

He leans closer to the computer and smiles, careful not to let his mouth open too much as he waves at his boyfriend.

"Hi, babe."

Blaine blushes, _still blushes_, at the pet name, and smiles his smile that gets his eyes all crinkled up, ducks his head for a second.

"Hey, handsome. How was your day?"

Kurt shrugs, ignores the jolt of pain it sends through his shoulder, and lowers his eyes to look up at the computer through his lashes.

"Like alwayth. Remember how I told you about the whole rebelling thing Rachel wanted to do?"

Kurt cringes at the lisp he has on "always", but Blaine doesn't seem to have noticed. Blaine smiles lopsidedly and hums in acknowledgement, reaching over to straighten something up on his bed. The v-neck drops a little, giving a glorious view of his chest. Kurt glances sideways, not sure how to start this conversation. He bites his lip, and looks at where Blaine is still distracted by something out of Kurt's view.

"Blaine, honey, could you lithen for a thecond?"

Blaine looks up, looks confused for a second, concerned the next, and then settles down criss-cross-applesauce in front of the computer, hands neatly folded in his lap.

"Did you accidentally cut a piece of your tongue? Is that why you're lisping? Because I've done that before, and I know how much it hurts and, oh, God, if it is that, I'm so sorry, you probably don't want to be reminded of it."

Kurt smiles, and rolls his eyes.

"No, I did not cut a piethe of my tongue. But Blaine, there ith thomething I need to tell you. I don't know if you're going to like it. Before we go any further, I jutht want you to know that thith wath all Rachel'th idea."

The blood seems to drain out of Blaine's face, and he looks absolutely mortified for a second.

"Did she hurt you? Did you… Did you touch her Broadway Bootleg collection? Because I've done that before, and I know how hard she hits, and if it's that—"

"Blaine! Could you pleathe jutht let me talk?"

Blaine nods, the color slowly returning to his face now that he's sure Kurt is not in any immediate danger of mutilation by a vicious roommate.

"Look, when Rachel and I went to, um… Rebel, we were slightly inebriated."

There is a tiny "oh god" from the other side of the line.

"I got my tattoo, but the next morning I notithed—well, Rachel notithed it, not me, thinthe it was on my thoulder— but, um, it wathn't thpelled right. Tho I went back to the thop, and the guy said he'd ficth it, and he'd give me a free tongue pierthing too. And I got it ficthed…"

Another breathy "dear lord" comes from his computer, and when he looks down he sees Blaine staring back at him with his pupils blown and two spots of color high in his cheeks. His mouth is opened slightly, and Kurt swears he can see just the tiniest bit of drool in the corner of his mouth.

"Blaine, I—"

"You have a tongue piercing."

It's a statement, not a question. Kurt ducks his head, scratches his neck, and blushes up to the tips of his ears.

"Well, you know, I'm not, I mean, I just. Yeah."

He quickly opens another tab, types something in and all of a sudden music starts pouring from the speakers of his laptop.

_Put your hands all over  
Put your hands all over me_

"But hey, on a totally unrelated topic, have you heard this song? I love this song. Don't you like this—"

Blaine interrupts him, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Kurt, that song is from 2010, and you know I love that song, but _you got a tongue piercing?"_

"To be fair, I—"

"That is _so_ _hot."_

That stops Kurt dead in his tracks.

"I—What?"

Blaine damn near whines the next sentence.

"_Kurt._ You got your tongue pierced. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Kurt ducks his head and looks up at Blaine through his eyelashes.

"No, but would you like to hear what I want to do to you?"

Blaine looks at him like he can't believe what he's hearing. After a moment of dumbfounded, open-mouthed silence, he closes his mouth, nods, and utters a shaky "yeah, okay." And then he's leaning back, his erection already tenting the front of his sweats. He pulls the v-neck over his head in one smooth movement, and Kurt follows his lead, pulling off his pajamas as fast as he can without jarring his shoulder too much, and shimmying out of his pants. He can hear Blaine getting up, hears a drawer open and shut, and the dull thud of something heavy falling onto the bed. When Blaine sits back down, he's naked save for his briefs, red ones today, maroon, even. How fitting.

"So, how do you want to do this?"

Kurt shrugs and flips onto his stomach.

"I'm not sure. I was thinking of jutht explaining to you how I'd undreth you as slowly as I could, how I'd kith your neck, maybe even give you a hickey, because you like it when I mark you. You love to be able to preth your fingerth into the bruitheth later and remember what we did together."

Blaine's gaze is focused on the screen, the movement of his arm hinting at what his hand is doing just outside of Kurt's view. He bites his lip again, and feels his cock throb where he is desperately hard against the bedspread. Blaine gasps when he twists his hand right under the head, and his abs flex minutely. Kurt really wants to lick Blaine's abs right now.

"I'd love for you to do that, _fuck_, Kurt, your piercing would feel so good on me—"

Wait, did he say that out loud? Kurt shruggs it off and continues, one hand creeping over his chest towards his nipple.

"Hmm, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like to feel my pierthing on your thkin, catching on your nippleth, feeling it scratch down your happy trail…"

Blaine interrupted him with a sigh.

"Babe, I'm sorry. The piercing is really hot—and I mean like, _super hot_," he did that little head inclination that made his eyes darken even more, "but the lisp," he sighed again, "is just not doing it for me."

Kurt pouted, his own cock still throbbing against the bed. He looked up to the camera.

"Do you still want to get off together, though?"

A devilish grin took over Blaine's face.

"Always. I'd love to feel that piercing on the underside of my cock. To feel it drag along the shaft, catch on the head. Hm, I may just get one of those myself, so you can feel it too. I bet that'd feel glorious, if I'd take you all the way into my throat, until the only things you could feel would be my throat around you and my piercing pressing into your skin. I bet I'd love it on my nipples too. You know how sensitive they get."

One of Blaine's hands wandered up his chest, and he pinched his right nipple, rolling the little bud between his fingers, his other hand still leisurely pumping his cock. He sighed and leaned his head back.

"I'd really love for you to be doing this to me right now… Amongst other things."

Kurt wraps his hand around his cock, and begins to wrong slowly into the tight channel of his fist. When he hears the soft but unmistakable click of the lube bottle opening, he can't help but gasp and start fucking his fist faster. On the screen Blaine exhales shakily, moaning a feeble "_Kurt"__. _Kurt keeps jerking off, fucking his own hand, getting lost in his own pleasure and the sounds Blaine is making on screen, until Blaine's muffled voice shakes him out of it.

"Wanna—_uh_—wanna see you come."

Kurt scrambles to turn over, his cock slapping against his stomach when he lays down again. On the screen Blaine has turned sideways, face pressed into the mattress as one hand is working something hot pink inside of himself, and the other is frantically jerking off. From the bad internet connection he can just make out the faint buzzing noise of the vibrator. Kurt can't hold in the harsh moan that rips out of his throat, and he starts jerking off faster, his hand no more than a blur on the screen. He tips his head back and starts babbling.

"Fuck yeah, baby, you look tho good like that jutht fucking your tight little hole, I with I were there I would make you feel so good—_oh fuck_— jutht like that, with your pretty little vibrator and your pretty little cock, keep going, baby, keep going don't thtop _oh fuck I'm gonna come_."

He bites his hand and with a soft cry he comes all over his chest. While he's still dazedly stroking his cock, he hears a sharp cry come from the computer, and he looks up just at the right time to see Blaine come all over his bedspread, and then slump into it. They just stay there for a couple of minutes, listening to the music still coming out of Kurt's speakers. After a while Blaine pipes up:

"How come we always have sex when Maroon 5 is playing? Not that I object, I mean, Adam Levine is one sexy bastard, but isn't that a funny coincidence?"

Kurt smiles.

"It'th a _very_ funny cointhidenth."


End file.
